One Cliche Stormy Night
by SilentAnokoku
Summary: I suck with titles. Francis has just been dumped by a cheating girlfriend. T mostly for bad language. VirgilxFrancis/FrancisxVirgil.


_I DO NOT OWN STATIC SHOCK_

_FrancisxVirgil/VirgilxFrancis I guess if you squint. I was trying to not make it obvious and yet make it obvious...yeah I don't make sense_

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><p>The clouds thundered in the distant evening sky, but he couldn't hear them.<p>

He could only hear his thoughts

_She ditched me. She really did...Not before cheating on me, that is...Bitch...Dammit, I shouldn't feel guilty for calling her that. Not anymore._

Scuffing along the sidewalk, he found himself in a more residential part of the city.

_Even though she left me, my memories of her ain't leavin'. Why can't I just forget this- dammit, I can't change the situation._

"This sucks," he growled as he pulled out he cigarette pack he had pilferred off of some absentminded drunk. Placing one of the cigs between his lips, he flicked out a flame on his thumb and lit it.

_I wasn't the last to know. Just the last to accept it_.

He had barely managed to take one good drag out of the cigarette before it started to pour rain.

"...Shit!"

Frustratedly, he threw his doused cigarette on the pavement and ground it up under his heel. He then began to glare about, searching for something else to take his anger out on- inanimate or not.

Soon enough, he relented in his rampage, his red and yellow locks plastered to his head and face; the rain turning to steam about him.

His rage spent, he weakly kicked at the wall.

"Francis? That you?"

He turned. "What do you want, Virgil?" he snarled at the concerned high schooler.

"Not trouble from you, that's for sure. But you might wanna head home, man.

Home was where the heart was. He had never had a home in the first place, and what had been left of his heart had just died. "Fuck off, I don't got one."

As the black teen's expression went from annoyed to sympathetic, Francis cursed himself for letting something like that slip. He should have just stopped at the "off".

His skin had stopped being hot enough to steam water, so when the other teenager reached out and grabbed him by the wrist, he wasn't burned.

Francis wanted to withdraw, to shrink away, but found his limbs not responding. He growled incoherently, his mouth resisting him as well.

His lack of violent protest seemed to go unnoticed- more than likely Virgil was keeping his sharp tongue to himself in order to preserve the delicate peace -as the pair proceeded. The darker teen eventually loosened his grip around his wrist, somehow leading Francis along by some sort of invisible, nonexistant string. He found himself close enough to the black teen that he was even shielded from most of the rain thanks to the umbrella in Virgil's hand.

"My dad's at a meeting and sis is probably hanging out with one of her 'gal pals'," the black teen said as he closed his umbrella and led Francis inside his home.

He opted to say silent, unsure of what to say to him in such a situation.

"I can get you a towel...though you can probably dry off yourself, now that I think about it."

"Too much of a hassel when I'm this soaked."

"Right, two towels. Coming right up. Just...stay there and try not to break anything."

"Don't tempt me," Francis muttered, observing his surroundings. It was an average home. Not shabby, not entirely too fancy. Just right. As far as he knew anyways. What he called home as a kid was far from a home.

Quite quickly, Virgil came back down the stairs with a towel in each hand. Offering one to Francis, he began drying himself off.

Cautiously, the redhead accepted the towel. He eyed it suspiciously for a good few seconds.

"What think I laced it anthrax or something?"

Francis shot him a glare, earning little more than an amused chuckle, before beginning to dry himself off.

"So what were you doing around here?" Virgil asked offhandedly, the two of them watching television from the couch as they waited for the rain to stop.

"Reasons."

"What kind of reasons?"

"_My_ reasons."

"Let me guess, if I ask further you're going to threaten me now that you're all dried off."

"Do I even have to answer a dumb question like that?"

The black teen grinned before returning his attention back to the television set.

A soothing silence settled over the two of them.

In an uncharacteristically careful manner- which irritated him, Francis spoke up. "...Virgil...Is there...a reason you dragged me here?"

He felt the other's dark eyes on him and fidgeted slightly.

"There is."

"Oh?" Francis folded his arms and sat back, trying to appear in control.

An impish smile tugged at Virgil's lips, "But I'm not telling you."

He narrowed his eyes, "Oh, but you are."

"You'll have to figure it out yourself, Einstein."

"It's on, smartass."

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><p><em>Yeah, I'll be happy if anyone tells me any grammar or spelling mess ups (or anything else like that)<em>

_:3 I like reviews a whoooole lot *wink wink, nudge nudge*_


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